Harry Potter and the Contacts of Doom
by Kathleen the Of Fire
Summary: A first time story (not ^that^ kind >.O)... of love, contacts, and slashy goodness. Harry wants to try contacts, and Ron tags along out of the kindess of his heart... (>.O riiight) slash (HP/RW, SF/DT)


Well, I'm on a role, eh? I mean, 3 works in two days! Ya for me...  
  
I'm proud of this piece, and, as myself, I must tell you why:  
  
1) I just got contacts, and I still have the memories of how hard it was for me to get them in... I wanted something to always remind me of that ^-^;  
2) I've been saying I'll write a Harry Potter fanfiction for soooo long, yet I've only come up with one, not me, brief ficlet of a Harry Potter works.  
3) I've been trying to poke my style into some of the stuff I read, way fun ^_^  
4) I love Seamus, so I had to have something where he wasn't already dead, and same for Harry .O I didn't mean for them to die when I started writing "Brother"...  
5) Why not? This is me, you know ^_^  
  
So, I'd like to dedicate this to all those people who wear contacts, especially Sara ^-^, and Jasmine Shinga, because she's started posting her story and she said she'd try to get her friend to send me that OliverxHarry story... Nummy ^-^  
  
Warnings: Slash... Contacts... Evil Deatheater optometrists... Whiny redheads, Seamus, HP/RW, SF/DT  
Disclaimer: Riiight... I own this... can't you tell? Geeze...  
Appin: Sarcasm... Right beside ducttape in the important things of life!   
  
Without further ado, I remind you to R&R as I present...  
  
Harry Potter and the Contacts of Doom  
  
A story of love, contacts, and slashy goodness  
  
  
  
"I can't believe you're trying to get Bromstacks..." the redhead whined, dragging his feet as he trailed behind a slim, compact brunette.  
  
"It's contacts, Ron," the brunette sighed, brushing the hair out of his eyes and searching for the optometrists.   
  
"What if they kill your eyes or something?" Ron murmured pitifully. "You do have lovely eyes, Harry."  
  
Harry blushed slightly, moving his hair back again. "I think we're here," he said, gesturing to the large eye-shaped building, rather than answering his friend's statement.  
  
"Ah, you must be Harry Potter," the receptionist chirped happily, flashing him a large smile. Harry's stomach warmed at the simple kindness she displayed, and he scarcely noticed when she gestured him around a corner.  
  
"I'm afraid you should just stay here, sir," she said sweetly to Ron. The redhead glared, crossed his arms over his chest, and stormed after his friend.  
  
"If Harry wants to go and get his eyes killed," he announced, "I'll stay by his side to comfort him."  
  
The woman tilted her head to the side, blinking, then forced the smile back on her face. "If that's what you want, sir."  
  
Ron's confident grin was her only answer as he sat down beside Harry, watching his friend closely. "Tell me if you're in any pain, okay?" he said nervously, and ignored the sniff of laughter Harry emitted.  
  
"Welcome, Harry," the optometrist said, smiling.   
  
'What's with them and smiling?' Ron thought sulkily, contemplating whether or not to grab Harry's hand, just in case.  
  
The optometrist, still smiling, asked Harry to check over the chart, and Ron gazed intently at his friend as the shorter boy read the lines calmly.   
  
"Excellent, Harry. If you'll come with me, I'll get those contacts you ordered," the optometrist announced.  
  
'Damn happy people... I bet they're really Deatheaters!' Ron's mind decided.  
  
He watched as Harry was seated in a plush, twirling chair in front of a mirror and the Deatheater showed the brunette how to place the contact in his eye.  
  
"Hey, Harry," Ron said nervously. "I just remembered that Seamus said that getting a contact in feels like having five-hundred eyelashes falling in your eye!" 'So maybe it was more like ten... but still,' he corrected himself mentally. Harry's faced drained of colour, and the redhead was certain that he had made his point.  
  
"Nonsense," the Deatheater optometrist cut in. "I promise, Harry, it will feel a little cold at first, but that's it!"  
  
Harry's eyes were troubled as he glanced from his best friend to the beaming lady. Swallowing, he picked up the contact again, and moved it near his eye. Ron held his breath as the clear circle moved closer and closer...   
  
Then gasped in relief as it tangled in Harry's long eyelashes. His friend, picking it back out, glared over to him. "S'not funny," he sulked, and tried again.  
  
Ron was practically dancing as they reached the ten minute mark. "Maybe it just wasn't meant to be, Harry?" he asked happily. Harry glared daggers at him.  
  
"I'm going to get this in," he replied, waving the finger holding the contact around, "if it's the last thing I do!"  
  
Ron groaned. "You'll ^die^," he whined. "I don't want to lose my friend this early in life!" He ranted loudly, ignoring the Deatheater until she grabbed his chair, pushing it out the door.   
  
There was a final sounding 'thud' as she slammed the door behind him, and the faintest 'click' of a lock. Enraged, he turned and pounded on it for several minutes, yelling warnings to Harry about Deatheaters and evil contacts.  
  
When no one replied, he began to sulk. Storming over to the chair, he crossed his arms, tucked his head down, and grumbled angrily.  
  
"Wa'cha doing?" a bright voice asked from beside him. He glared up, taking in Seamus's Cheshire grin and Dean's silent bemusement.   
  
"They locked me out," he huffed. "Harry's in there, probably poking his eyes out while a Deatheater looks on, and they ^locked^ ^me^ ^out^!"  
  
Seamus held his face straight for a minute, then gave up and burst out laughing. "Locked you out," he chortled happily.   
  
Ron glared angrily, ignoring the pale optometrist who slipped out past him, sliding the door shut behind her. "What are you doing here?" he grunted at last, unable to think of anything else.  
  
"I have an eye appointment!" Seamus said enthusiastically. "I've never had one before, but I figure there's no time like the present, and Dean booked it for me!"  
  
Dean, eyeing his companion carefully, nodded. "Yeah," he agreed quietly.   
  
"It should be pretty cool because I asked Dean and he mentioned all the lights and numbers and machines and stuff, and even though I've seen some machines, I've never seen an ^eye^ machine, but there's always a first time for everything," Seamus rambled.  
  
A piercing yell of agony cut through the air. "Harry," Ron gasped, lunging for the door and jerking it open. He nearly fainted as he saw his friend, on the floor, clutching his face.  
  
"I'm dying," Harry groaned. "The pain... Ron... It's intense!"  
  
Ron choked, blinking.   
  
"I said," Harry repeated angrily. "I'm dying! The pain is intense! Help me, dumbass!"  
  
Seamus giggled as Ron raced over to his fallen companion, lifting Harry's head gently into his lap. "Harry?" he squeaked nervously.  
  
Harry's hands twitched, and slid from his face, revealing a large grin and a pair of sparkling green eyes. "Joking, Ron, joking," he reassured, and paused. "What do you think?"  
  
Seamus slammed the door, winking broadly at Dean. "Aww," he purred, running a fingertip along the tall, dark boy's cheek. "That's so cute... Makes me feel lonely."  
  
Dean quirked an eyebrow and rolled his eyes. "I guess we can reschedule the eye appointment, if you really want to miss the lights and machines," he agreed wryly.  
  
Seamus grinned, pouncing on his boyfriend and placing a sloppy kiss on the other's nose. "I think I can entertain myself in other ways," he murmured, and the two wandered out.  
  
Ron felt very aware of Harry's head, still pillowed on his legs, as the other boy looked up at him. "It's... nice," he announced at last. "It makes your eyes very green."  
  
Harry grinned, sitting up. "Forgiven the evil contacts, Ron?" he asked sweetly.   
  
Ron crossed his eyes, taking in his best friend. "I have to test them," he announced at last. "There's only one way to do  
that, you know."  
  
"Oh, really?" Harry asked, leaning forward. "Do tell!"  
  
Ron grinned and captured Harry's lips with his own, drawing back slowly after a minute. "I think that these contacts will work very well, Harry," he said as he caught his breath.  
  
"Good, I rather like them," Harry said conversationally. Ron grinned and leaned in for another kiss. "I think I'll pay for them," the brunette added, standing abruptly and watching Ron's lips crash into the chair.   
  
"Harry," Ron whined again. Harry Potter, the boy who lived, simply smiled, picked up his glasses, and walked off.   
  
  
  
Seamus leaned back from Dean, watching as Harry, eyes clear and bright without the glasses, wandered past, licking an ice cream cone. Ron slipped up behind him, murmuring something softly into his ear. Both boys grinned and turned into an alleyway.  
  
"Dean" Seamus whispered to his boyfriend. "I have a feeling that Ron is much more fond of contacts now." Dean followed Seamus's gaze to the alley where Ron had Harry back up against a wall, smirked, and nodded.   
  
"Do you want that eye appointment tomorrow, Sea?"  
  
"Do I get that good of a result?" Seamus whispered seductively.  
  
Dean smiled again. "We'll see, love."  
  
"I can't hardly wait."  
  
  
END 


End file.
